


Live for the Hunt

by Vinitharius



Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolf, F/F, This was supposed to be a lot darker but stuff happened and it became fluff, Werewolf, Werewolf!Jaina
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-04
Updated: 2019-04-04
Packaged: 2020-01-04 14:40:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18345737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vinitharius/pseuds/Vinitharius
Summary: A missing mage has the Alliance on high alert. Meanwhile, the Warchief deals with the appearance of a beast near Lordaeron.Timeline: Some time after Sylvanas is named Warchief but before Jaina becomes Lord Admiral. Or something like that. ¯\(ツ)/¯ My goal was to make things gay not keep the timeline straight.





	Live for the Hunt

**Author's Note:**

> It's not Halloween, but It's always werewolf o'clock in my world.
> 
> I went on an Amon Amarth binge. Then I saw the album art for Beast in Black’s _From Hell with Love_ album. Also Wolfish’s Werewolf!Jaina only served to encourage me along this _glorious_ dark path. Someone should stop me before I curse the Sylvaina fandom. :P
> 
> Title is inspired by “Live for the Kill” by Amon Amarth. (That cello solo is _amazing_!)
> 
> Huge thanks to [MarieAnne_Cormier](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarieAnne_Cormier/pseuds/MarieAnne_Cormier) who helped me with the lore and proof read this.

Snow was falling all over Azeroth. Winter tightened its icy grip over the continent. In the Kingdom of Stormwind, the young King Anduin Wrynn sat on his throne. His brow creased in concentration. All Azeroth was experiencing a significantly harsher winter. Even Stormwind wasn’t spared from mother nature’s wrath which covered the kingdom in an unprecedented 4 inches of snow. The last time Stormwind saw snow was over 80 years ago, and that was only 1 inch, so the arrival of a cold front and a blanket of snow was definitely a huge surprise.

Anduin would consider himself lucky if he didn’t grey out from stress before he hit his very distant 30th birthday. (provided his body didn’t give out on him with a heart attack first)

Things on Anduin’s list of stressors:  
1\. Increasing tension between the Alliance and Horde  
2\. The disappearance of Archmage Jaina Proudmoore

And now the addition of Number 3: The apparent “Snowpocalypse” and the resulting panic.

“This has to be _her_ doing.” A voice to his right growled, “Nothing good comes from that evil woman.”

Anduin sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Are you even listening to yourself, Genn? There’s no way Sylvanas and Horde could be behind this.”

Genn Greymane continued his brooding pace around the throne room, which did nothing but increase Anduin’s anxiety.

“The planet goes through cycles, but even so this is extreme.” Anduin continued, peering out the window. The snow kept falling without any indication of stopping, covering everything in pristine freezing white snow.

Anduin missed his Auntie Jaina. Her voice was calming during chaos, and she was the constant voice wisdom despite her relative youth. When the news broke of her disappearance, Anduin immediately sent his agents to check for foul play. However, his men came back with nothing to report. Everything was normal. _Strangely_ normal, as if Jaina just up and left without a trace. If it wasn’t foul play, it only begged the question, why would Jaina leave without telling anyone of her plans?

* * *

Over in the Undercity, Sylvanas Windrunner was up to absolute evil: spending time at an orphanage and entertaining children. The Dark Lady of the Forsaken and Warchief of the Horde was happily sitting in a chair surrounded by adoring children.

“Perhaps, Dark Lady,” Nathanos interrupted, “you should be doing something better than,” he leaned in and whispered, “entertaining sniveling _children_.” A few children looked at him strangely for whispering to the Warchief. He flashed an unsettling smile and continued, “Like planning an attack on the Alliance?”

Sylvanas sighed, removing the child from her lap and pulled Nathanos off to the side.

“Nathanos,” Sylvanas said grinning through her teeth, “We’ve talked about this before. A great leader serves her people’s needs. There’s a time for delegation, and there’s a time for hands-on care. _Genuine_ care, unlike _some_ people.” She emphasized by jabbing him. “Now if you need me, I’ll be showering children with my love and affection.”

“Who was that guy?” A child asked when Sylvanas returned to the room alone.

“Oh him, he’s just a party pooper. Now, who wants to hear another story?” She asked, sitting down again.

…

Evening approached as Sylvanas wrapped up by answering the children’s inquisitive questions. A young tauren asked, “Dark Lady, are you afraid of monsters?”

Before she could answer, a child’s voice chimed in, “Of course not. Our Warchief is fearless.”

Sylvanas smiled, “There won’t be any scary monsters around to bother you as long as I’m around to protect you. But why are you asking all of a sudden?”

“They say there’s a _huge_ monster in the Silverpine Forest.”

“A huge monster you say?” She asked with a grin.

“Yeah. A big one as tall as ah…” The tauren boy trailed off trying to come up with something to compare it to.

“A tree,” chimed in an orc girl.

“Yeah, and its teeth are sharp like razors.” supplied a goblin boy.

“It has a blood-chilling roar and piercing eyes.”

The children continued elaborating details about the monster until the orphanage director interrupted them for their bedtimes. The children groaned in complaint.

“I’m sure the Warchief will come back when she has time until then you guys need to be on your best behavior, and that includes going to bed on time.”

…

It took Sylvanas another 30 minutes to finally break free from the children. It turns out children found the Banshee Queen to be _quite_ huggable. One hug turned into two, and two turned into a dogpile. Upon leaving the orphanage, Sylvanas discovered Nathanos leaning on a nearby wall brooding.

“I can’t believe you wasted an _entire_ day at an orphanage,” Nathanos chastised her on the walk back to the Royal Quarter.

“Is it really a waste if you enjoyed it?” She countered, “Besides, it made the children happy.”

“You’ve been neglecting your duties.”

“‘Warchief’ doesn’t mean being bloodthirsty and permanently brooding on a throne.”

“Your job is _War_ chief, not peace chief or… entertaining-children…-tain.”

The Warchief groaned, “That was horrible.”

“It was better in my head.”

“There's a lot of thoughts that should stay there.”

“Warchief!” interrupted a guard, “We’re glad we’ve found you. There’s been a situation.”

* * *

“So let me get this straight. You were attacked by a monster in Silverpine forest?”

“Yes, Dark Lady,” Standing in front of the throne was a large male tauren, who represented the traveling party. “A massive beast leaped out of nowhere and attacked our group. We abandoned our supplies and ran for our lives. Luckily no one was majorly injured, but it's just a matter of time before someone does get hurt.”

It was one thing to dismiss the active imagination of kids, but multiple accounts of a beast dwelling in Silverpine wasn’t something to turn a blind eye to. Especially considering the fact the so-called beast was big enough to scare an adult tauren. An 8ft something tauren.

“We’ll look into it,” The Dark Lady assured him before turning to her left. “Nathanos, how fast can you ready a hunting party?”

“By dawn, Dark Lady,” he replied. “But is it a good idea? There’s talk of a large snow storm approaching. Maybe hold off until it passes?”

“That storm won’t arrive until a week’s time. If we move fast, it should only take about 3 days to get there. It’s plenty enough to hunt down the beast and return before the storm.”

* * *

At dawn, Sylvanas and her team of dark rangers mounted their skeletal horses. They wore thick fur lined coats to help pad against the freezing temperature despite their natural resistance to the cold. Farstrider training taught them to be prepared, and why tempt frostbite when you didn't have to? Sylvanas exchanged her usual red cloak for a similar one lined by pelts.

Nathanos reached for the reins of a horse before the sharp voice of the Warchief stopped him. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Nathanos looked upset like someone bleached his favorite dark cape. “I thought you could use the backup?” He offered.

“I wasn’t named Ranger-General because of my family. I _earned_ it because of _my skill_.” She hissed, already feeling annoyed before sunrise. “Stay here. We’ll be fine. We’ll find the beast, kill it, and return with its body in tow. Simple enough.”

“As you wish, my Lady.”

* * *

It was the evening of the second day when the ranger squadron arrived in Silverpine forest. Sylvanas ordered them to split up and search the area for the remains of the caravan. A sharp whistle came from her right, indicating that they found it. Sylvanas dismounted and walked up to the scene. Broken wood was scattered about, supply crates littered the ground haphazardly, tattered remains of cloth caught on the trees and blew in the wind.

“Anya, did you find anything important?”

“Not yet, Dark Lady.” Anya crouched down moving through the wreckage. Picking through it, she discovered something. “Actually, I found something.” She held it up for Sylvanas to see. A tuft of fur. Wolf fur.

“Dark Lady,” interrupted Velonara, “We’ve found wolf tracks.”

“Excellent,” Sylvanas said, taking a break to stare up at the night sky. The moon was full, its light cast the forest in an eerie glow. Over in the distance, wolves howled. “It’s the perfect night for a hunt.” She remarked to herself smiling before turning and mounting her horse.

It had been years since Sylvanas had time to hunt. The last time she recalled enjoying the thrill was before the entire Scourge incident. It felt like a lifetime since she truly tapped into her ranger instincts, and by the gods, she would enjoy it.

They followed the howls down to a ravine that opened down to a valley below. Rather than wasting time by looking for a path for the horses, they abandoned them and quickly descended into the snowy valley.

Their landing alerted the nearby wolves to their presence. Sylvanas’s ears twitched as she heard the howls in the distance get closer. The rangers drew back their bows and took out a few of the wolves as they approached. From behind, Sylvanas heard the crunch of snow as more wolves descended into the ravine. They soon found themselves surrounded by 40 something wolves.

Sylvanas pulled her bow from her back and dropped two wolves with deadly accuracy. She sent arrows soaring far into the distance, striking down the predators on the horizon. Sylvanas pulled her last arrow from her quiver and fired it at the wolf coming at her right flank. Everything was still until the crunch of snow alerted Sylvanas to the stalking wolf on her left flank.

The wolf was swift and launched its muscular body into the air, aiming for her throat. Sylvanas’ eyes flashed red as she captured the beast’s open maw with her hands, ignoring its attempts to strike her with its paws. She gripped its mouth, disregarding the teeth scraping her gauntlets, and with a quick pull, Sylvanas felt its jaw dislocate as she broke it. Flipping behind the wolf, she wrapped her arms around the wolf’s throat and with audible snap broke its neck.

From afar, the dark rangers stood back watching the Dark Lady as she snarled and launched herself at the poor foolish canine that didn’t have the common sense to bolt. The snow was painted scarlet as Sylvanas screamed and ripped apart another wolf, covering herself in blood and guts. The Banshee Queen’s wail sent the remaining stragglers running.

Sylvanas knelt on the ground. Her cloak was tattered, and she was covered from head to toe in blood as a cautious ranger approached her. Hearing the sounds of boots crunching in the snow, Sylvanas jerked around to face the trespasser. Her ears flicked back as she snarled and bared her fangs. The area around her mouth was smeared with blood. Her eyes widened in surprise as she snapped out of her haze and realized who was in front of her. “Velonara?”

“Yes, Dark Lady,” she replied, handing her a rag.

Sylvanas took it and wiped off the blood on her face and neck, cleaning herself from the mess she made. She looked around surveying the scene. Wolf remains were scattered about the landscape. Bits of flesh and entrails strewn in every which way. The once virgin snow was stained crimson. The last time Sylvanas recalled losing herself was the last time she talked with her younger sister.

Their last parting was less than pleasant. Vereesa didn’t choose her. Her own flesh and blood. They could’ve had some part of their family restored. Sure it wouldn’t be the same after the Scourge and Alleria’s disappearance, but it was better than nothing. Little moon abandoned her. The high and mighty Alliance abandoned her, even after she and the others died defending the innocent from the Scourge. Friends from the past abandoned her, including a certain mage. Hell, the Horde didn’t even want them that much. Even as their Warchief, they still distrusted the undead. They were truly Forsaken.

After Sylvanas calmed down, she turned to give orders to the dark rangers to deal with the wolf remains. Their job was done, they successfully reduced the huge wolf population down to something more manageable. The sheer amount of wolves and the ever decreasing resources encouraged them to attack travelers.

With the storm approaching in a few days, they climbed back up the ravine to their horses to return back to the Undercity. As they rode past the original site of the attack, something didn’t set right with Sylvanas. She took one last glance at the wreckage when the wind blew, moving a large scrap of canvas. The canvas revealed a larger animal track that was protected from the wind. Sylvanas stop her mount in its track, her curiosity got the best of her.

Anya noticed her sudden stop. “Dark Lady?”

“Go ahead. I’ll catch up.” Sylvanas replied, dismounting to get a better look at it. Anya hesitated for a bit, and Sylvanas didn’t hear the clopping of hooves. They hadn’t left her yet. “It’s an order. Return to Undercity before the storm.”

Reluctantly the dark rangers departed from her. The dark rangers and the rest of the Forsaken were the one thing Sylvanas knew she could count on. Family, friends, allies… lovers, all people who should have been there to support her but failed when she needed it the most.

Sylvanas inspected the track. It was huge, over two feet in length. It was large in the front before it tapered down to the heel. It had 4 prominent digits and what appeared to be a dewclaw on its side. It intrigued her. Whatever caused it was massive. Sylvanas’ first instinct said that it was from a worgen, but the track was too large and had too many digits.

A victim of her own morbid curiosity, Sylvanas couldn’t help herself but investigate the source of the track. Perhaps the children were right about the beast dwelling in Silverpine forest. Sylvanas mounted and headed off in the general direction of the track. The wind and falling snow had destroyed most of the tracks, save for the one preserved under the cloth canvas. It was a long shot of ever finding the beast considering the age of the track.

The wind and snow picked up around the Warchief as she rode through the forest. Her keen eyes searched for something amiss, something caused by a massive apex predator. Sylvanas saw something from the corner of her eyes. Massive claw marks marring a centuries-old pine tree. The 4 marks ran horizontally in a large arc, ripping through the bark like paper. From the sap, Sylvanas concluded the damage occurred within the past day. Nearby was a fallen tree. The tree was decently sized and roughly 30 something years old, and yet it was uprooted and cracked from whatever force hit it. The beast must have struck it before barreling through the rest of the young forest, felling trees like a knife through warm butter.

The wind howled as more snow fell from the sky. Sylvanas gripped her tattered clack against the bellowing wind and swirling snow. The blizzard had arrived.

Even with her ears drawn back against the wind, Sylvanas heard the audible cracking and snapping of a tree. Turning quickly in its direction, she saw the creature’s movement through the trees. Sylvanas bolted off after its retreating quadrupedal form. It is hunt or be hunted, and Sylvanas wasn’t planning on losing.

Somehow the beast eluded her. Flashes of white blurred past her, darting between the trees. Occasionally, Sylvanas could have sworn she saw streaks of blond. The beast was playing with her. Nearby icy blue eyes watched her every movement, looking for the perfect time to strike.

There was something extremely unsettling about the entire situation gnawing at the back of Sylvanas’ mind. Before she could place it, she heard a loud roar as the beast revealed itself. The white-furred creature towered on its hind legs. It was easily twice Sylvanas’ height and made of pure muscles. Burning crimson eyes met icy sapphire, right before the beast launched itself at her. It all clicked for her: the piercing blue eyes, white fur with blonde streaks, the blizzard. It all pointed to one person.

Jaina Proudmoore

At that point, Sylvanas gave up all attempts to save herself and accepted her fate. Nothing in all of Azeroth could stop a woman as strong and determined as Jaina. Nothing could stop Jaina from enacting justice for all the wrongs Sylvanas had caused directly or indirectly. Sylvanas resigned to her fate, but she never thought it would go down like this. Sure she figured she’d eventually have to face Jaina again, but never did she imagine she’d crushed and/or mauled to death by her ex. Even so, this ending would be infinitely better than her first death, which in her dying moments left her looking at an ugly bastard and wannabe prince running a mystical sword through her. The same sword that turned her newfound _un_ life into an unbearable hell and destroyed everything she ever cared about or loved.

Sylvanas braced herself for the razor-sharp claws about to rip her asunder. However, to her surprise, the pain didn’t come. Instead, she got tackled into a snowbank with Jaina pinning her down with her claws on either side of her. Jaina’s wolf-like jaws were inches away from Sylvanas’ face. Sylvanas closed her eyes, ready for Jaina to end her misery by ripping out her throat with her fangs.

Instead of pain, Sylvanas felt something cold and wet touch her skin, her eyes snapped open, seeing Jaina lick her. “Jaina, what the hell!?”

Jaina’s eyes widened in surprise and lost their fierce edge as she bolted up, leaving Sylvanas lying in the snowbank. Sylvanas wiped the drool off her face as she yelled after her. “Jaina! Jaina, I know you can hear me!” She sighed as she watched Jaina flee and took off after her. If anything, Jaina’s confusing reaction wasn’t completely horrible. At least she didn’t completely hate her after all.

Sylvanas tracked Jaina down to her cave. Sylvanas knew Jaina heard her approach, but she took comfort in the fact Jaina hadn’t bulldozed her over in an escape attempt or simply teleported away. Sylvanas approached cautiously, “Hey, Jaina,” she said with a faint smile. “It’s been a while.”

She got close enough to wrap her arms around Jaina who bent down to meet her. She managed to semi-wrap her arm around Jaina’s massive side and gently stroked her back in circular motions, feeling Jaina’s soft white fur. Leaning close to her ear, Sylvanas whispered, sobbing. “We need to talk.”

Sylvanas felt Jaina’s breathing as she cried into her fur. Jaina moved slightly and loosened Sylvanas’s grip on her. Jaina was enveloped in a light blue light as she shifted back into her human form, covered by her usual white and blue robes. Returning the hug, Jaina finally spoke, “I’m tired of the endless fighting.”

“I’m too, my dear,” Sylvanas said, leaning down to rest her head on Jaina’s shoulder. “I’ve missed you so much, dalah'surfal.”

“And I you, my love.”

Jaina caught the mischievous sparkle in Sylvanas’ eye as she asked, “Can you still transform back?” Jaina replied with an mmhmm, as Sylvanas continued, “And summon a portal?”

“Where to?” Jaina asked, the question kind of catching her off guard.

“The Undercity,” Sylvanas answered with a smile.

* * *

“How the hell did you lose the WARCHIEF?!” Nathanos screamed.

“She ordered us to go ahead,” Velonara explained. The rangers had returned recently. The storm slowed their pace down making the return journey take a day longer.

“That’s no excuse.” He growled in exasperation. “What part of ‘frozen winter hell’ do you not understand? It's a fucking blizzard, no one alive or dead should be out in it. And what do you bring back? Fucking pelts!” He yelled, tossing the pelt across the throne room. This was bad. Nathanos knew that as much as anyone that the Forsaken weren’t really in a great place in the Horde. Knowledge about the Warchief’s disappearance would cause an uproar if it got out to the rest of Horde. The Forsaken were already seen as questionable from their former time as servants of the Scourge, and some members showed extreme disdain in Vol'jin naming Sylvanas as his successor.

Suddenly screams erupted from beyond the hall. There was bang at the large wooden door until the door gave in, showering the room with wooden splinters. The sight of the creature, unbelievably horrifying as it towered over everyone in the room, and its roar was bone chilling. Nathanos felt his pulse quicken as the 12-foot beast loomed over him roaring and readying its claws to strike him down.

From above he heard snickering laughter, looking up he noticed something he had completely missed. The Warchief was riding on the back of the ginormous creature. Even more shocking was the beast, shifting to reveal a hysterically laughing mage.

“What is she doing here!?”

“She’s here to help us end the war for good,” Sylvanas said dismissively, walking over to the amused mage, enveloping her in a large hug. “And you should get used to seeing her around.”

* * *

Sylvanas barely made it inside the building before getting assaulted by children. “The Warchief is back!” Some child yelled.

Someone else noticed Jaina slipping through the door and added, “And she brought a different friend!”

“This is Lady Jaina Proudmoore,” Sylvanas introduced, “You will be seeing her a lot, so remember to treat her with the same respect you do to me.”

Some of the older children started whispering, “Isn’t she familiar?”

“Doesn’t she look like she’s from the Alliance?”

“Do you think they’re dating?”

It really didn't matter to them as there was a new person to climb on and hear stories from. They did, however, catch the amused look of Lady Proudmoore when they asked the Warchief about the Beast of Silverpine Forest. Sylvanas seemed to choke as someone asked about how she dealt with the beast with muscles the size of wildebeests. Jaina could barely keep laughter in as she rubbed circles into Sylvanas’ back. Sylvanas wished the children asked about their rings instead of the “Ferocious White Beast of Silverpine and the Fearless Warchief of the Horde.”

**Author's Note:**

> Why is Jaina a Worgen? / Werewolf? ‘Cus I felt like it. I never really thought of a lore reason… (Not like I know much anyways)
> 
> Worgen biology is stupid. Apparently Worgen have 4 digits on their hands and feet. Which is completely stupid. Humans have 5 fingers --> Wogren suddenly have 4. *facepalm*
> 
> I wish I never looked in to it and just assumed they had 5. 
> 
> Also I never read any of the books, but I heard Sylvanas once riped a wolf apart with her bare hands. That’s pretty badass. 
> 
> PS: You know this was supposed to be darker, but it turned wholesome somehow, and I changed my mind. ¯\\(ツ)/¯


End file.
